An Unholy Alliance : Transition
by Avirra
Summary: AU Mirror-verse. The current First Officer of the ISS Enterprise, Commander Gary Mitchell, is tired of waiting for his turn to sit in the Captain's chair, so when Spock approaches him with a possible solution, how can he refuse?


Kirk and McCoy were still planet-side, seeing McCoy's young sister back to her boarding school and saying their goodbyes. Spock judged that made this the optimum time to find Commander Mitchell. He found him where he expected to - standing on the Observation Deck, looking out over the Earth.

Mitchell turned slightly as Spock entered the area.

"Something you wanted, Mister Spock?"

Spock stopped six feet away from Mitchell, looking through the viewport toward Earth as well.

"Actually, I believe that there is something that we both desire, Commander Mitchell. It is hardly a secret that you would prefer to be in the Captain's chair instead of standing behind it. For my part, standing behind the chair is a position that I prefer. It is my belief that should the two of us cooperate, we could both achieve our goals."

Mitchell turned fully around at that, studying Spock with narrowed eyes. Two things were said of Vulcans - that they didn't lie and that they made very bad enemies. With those in mind, he worded his next question carefully.

"And will I just be paving a way closer to the Captain's chair for you?"

The expression on Spock's face didn't change even a fraction.

"Pursuing the Captain's chair on any Imperial vessel would be a waste of both my time and energy. As has been abundantly pointed out to me by Doctor McCoy, the Empire will never allow a Vulcan to captain a ship of theirs except as a short term measure in cases of emergency. Therefore, it is in my own best interests to find a captain that will accept me in the position of First Officer and then dedicate my efforts to keeping them in their position and thereby keeping myself in the position of First."

Turning back toward the viewport, Mitchell considered the proposal in silence. Neither Kirk or McCoy liked him which frankly meant that he would never sit the Captain's chair so long as the two of them were on the Enterprise. He could conceivably transfer to another ship and become Captain on it, but the Enterprise was the jewel of the Imperial Fleet. Any other ship would be a step down - no. He wanted the Enterprise. Still looking toward the planet they were slowly orbiting, Mitchell commented.

"Doctor McCoy would be a problem."

The Vulcan remained where he was as he responded.

"I agree that, if any move against Captain Kirk is expected to be effective, the Doctor would first need to be removed from the equation."

"That would leave the ship without a CMO."

"If that is a concern, then the action against the Doctor would need to be taken soon after he and the Captain return to the ship and before we leave orbit. There is no shortage of those who would gladly take the opportunity to move into the position of CMO on the flagship."

A slow nod came from Mitchell as he looked to Spock again.

"He can't get to Sickbay. The nurses are too protective of him."

"Agreed. The Doctor would have all the advantage in his home territory. I feel the need to mention that the window of opportunity is closing rapidly. They will be coming back aboard within the hour."

The voice in the back of Mitchell's head whispered that this could be a bad idea, but the larger part of his brain overruled that. This could well be his best shot at taking the Enterprise and, if he didn't take the opportunity Spock was offering, he doubted the Vulcan would ever be willing to offer again. That was the deciding factor.

"Then I suppose we should get in position now. You seem to have given this a good deal of thought. Where would be the best place to confront McCoy?"

"While there is always a slight chance that the Doctor will accompany the Captain to the Bridge, since he will be returning from a situation that is likely to prompt a negative emotional response from him, the odds are far better that he will go directly to either Sickbay or his quarters. For our purposes, since they are both near one another, it makes very little difference which he will be going to. Since he will need to pass by one of the briefing rooms, that might be a suitable location."

"And how am I supposed to get him into a briefing room?"

Raising one brow slightly, Spock studied Mitchell for what seemed to be a long time before speaking.

"If you cannot conceive of a way to convince a junior officer to enter a briefing room, perhaps your goal of captaincy is unrealistic."

Drawing himself up stiffly, Mitchell glared at Spock.

"I'll get him into the damn room. You be ready to do what needs to be done."

The Vulcan's brow remained raised for a moment, then lowered.

"I shall be prepared to act at the proper moment."

A tone came from Spock's communicator.

"The Captain and the Doctor have signaled to be beamed aboard. There is no longer time to waste."

Turning, Mitchell left the observation deck with Spock following closely behind. After they entered the turbolift, Mitchell questioned Spock.

"You have Scott on your side?"

Spock remained stock still with his hands clasped at his lower back.

"I do not."

"Then who signaled you?"

"That would be Mister Kyle. He is both ambitious and circumspect enough to see the value in aligning with my faction onboard the Enterprise."

Spock fell silent again as the turbolift doors reopened and the two men began to walk toward Sickbay, stopping at the briefing room located approximately halfway there. Glancing down the hall, Spock turned back toward the door.

"I will await you inside."

Wiping his suddenly damp hands onto his uniform pants, Mitchell nodded automatically and repeated part of what he had said earlier.

"Be ready."

The cool look from Spock warned Mitchell that he was treading very near to insulting the Vulcan half-breed. Spock said not a single word in response, simply entering the room and allowing the door to shut back behind him.

Now alone in the corridor, Mitchell stayed near the door, glaring at any crewman that looked his way and hurrying them on by the tangible weight of his displeasure at their presence. As expected, he heard McCoy's approach long before he saw the man.

"Five damn years in uncharted territory. What the hell was I thinking?"

As McCoy came within view, the doctor slowed slightly and narrowed his eyes at the sight of Mitchell. He started to move on past when Mitchell called out.

"Doctor McCoy, I'd like you to sit in on the meeting I have going on. I want your insights."

To say McCoy was immediately suspicious was an underestimation of his reaction to Mitchell's words. Mitchell had never asked for his opinions. Ever. Not that the lack of asking for them had ever stopped McCoy from giving them, of course. He turned toward Mitchell, using the movement to cover the action of palming one of the several hyposprays he kept on him in case of emergency. McCoy's face was the textbook image of disgruntled as he finally faced the First Officer.

"Can't this wait until we're underway, Mister Mitchell? I have orders to give my nurses."

Granted, those orders were going to be to leave him the hell alone for the next few hours, but Mitchell didn't need to know that.

"No, it can't it, Lieutenant Commander. Now."

The dig was deliberate. Mitchell knew few things irritated McCoy more than having rank pulled on him. More because that was a line that McCoy didn't cross. The doctor was mouthy and borderline insubordinate at the best of times, but he didn't directly disobey orders.

"Fine."

McCoy didn't really move past Mitchell into the room. It was more like he stormed into the space. Mitchell expected that. What he wasn't prepared for was the lightning fast reaction from McCoy when he got around the partition that kept those inside the room shielded from direct sight - or, more to the point, shielded from direct line of fire - from the corridor. Seeing that no meeting was taking place, McCoy spun and struck with the speed of a cobra. The hypospray was stopped mere millimeters from Mitchell's skin by the equally quick movement of Spock's hand shooting out to capture McCoy's wrist.

"That course of action would be ill-advised, Doctor."

The almost visible anger coming off McCoy amused Mitchell greatly as he also enjoyed the sight of the doctor being held in place firmly by Spock who was only using one hand. The question coming from McCoy seemed almost mild for him.

"Ill- advised? Why's that, Spock?"

"Because, Doctor, the drugs would show during the autopsy."

The words didn't even have time to fully register before Spock's free hand had quickly and unerringly performed a Vulcan nerve pinch on Mitchell. As the commander dropped to the floor, McCoy cleared his throat.

"You can release my wrist anytime now, Spock."

With a flash of an expression that might have been read as a brief moment of embarrassment, Spock released his grip.

"My apologies, Doctor. I must admit that had I not been expecting your strike with the hypospray, I doubt I would have been quick enough to have stopped you."

Kneeling down to check on Mitchell, McCoy smiled.

"Good to know I haven't lost my touch."

Pulling up his ever-present medkit, McCoy took a moment to make use of a dermal regenerator to insure there would be no bruising on Mitchell's shoulder, then activated his communicator.

"McCoy to Scott."

"Scott here. Is the package ready then?"

"Ready. Take out the trash."

Spock remained silent as the transporter effect surrounded Mitchell and took him away.

"There will need to be an autopsy, Doctor. Or did you plan to falsify one?"

Getting back to his feet, McCoy managed to look scandalized.

"Falsify records? No need of that, Mister Spock. There'll be an autopsy. Hell, Chapel will pout at me for a month if I don't give her that treat."

"Where is it that Mister Scott has transported Commander Mitchell?"

Tucking the hypospray back into its hiding place, a self-satisfied look formed.

"Chekov and Sulu were telling me that Mitchell had been overheard saying that Jim going into the warp core area to save the ship wasn't that big of a deal. Thought it might do him good to get a close up look at just how big a deal that area really is."

Spock silently admitted to himself that Admiral Pike had presented a valid point when he had told him to never underestimate the damage a doctor could do or have done. His thoughts were interrupted by McCoy's communicator going off.

"Scott to McCoy. Doctor? You and Mister Spock might want to come have a look at this."

The two officers exchanged a brief glance before McCoy answered.

"On our way, Scott. McCoy out."

Easily keeping pace with one another, they were side by side going through the corridors, barely paying attention to the lower ranking crewmembers that were scattering to get out of their way. As the doors to Engineering opened, McCoy's concern spiked. Scott was shaken and considering the number of things that the Chief Engineer took in stride, that was nothing to take lightly.

Scott didn't speak, instead gesturing to the entryway and doors that separated the main room from the radiation zone. The inner door was in the process of being demolished by Mitchell. As if sensing McCoy and Spock's entrance, Mitchell raised his head and glared at them. His eyes were a glowing silver. McCoy was, quite frankly, startled.

"What the hell?"

Spock returned Mitchell's glare coolly.

"Do you recall the magnetic storm encountered near the galactic barrier?"

"I remember - Mitchell was stunned by some sort of power feedback. Jim says he's been acting odd - well, odder - ever since. You think that might have something to do with this?"

The assault on the door had started again and the metal was buckling under Mitchell's blows. Despite the fact that there was now only one more door blocking the main chamber from the deadly radiation, Spock gave a short nod and continued to speak.

"I cannot think of anything else that might explain the alteration of Commander Mitchell. Do you have any comprehension of the amount of force that the Commander must be generating in order to cause that level of damage to a radiation shield door?"

Looking at both officers as if they were insane, Scott gestured toward the warp core.

"This is all very interesting, I'm sure - but do you not realize that the man is only minutes away from irradiating this whole area?"

Keeping his own eyes on Mitchell, McCoy spoke thoughtfully.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Even as the inner door gave crumpled, Mitchell's eyes stopped glowing and he staggered. Leaning heavily against the nearest bulkhead, Mitchell closed his eyes and was breathing hard. McCoy could see the physical tells of the radiation burns appearing on his flesh. The eyes reopened again, staring straight at McCoy. The silvery glow was back, but dimmer than it had been. Still, Mitchell rallied himself and shoved enough of the ruined door out of his way to stumble into the entryway.

"He's dying. I guess the only remaining questions are how quickly and how much damage he can do before then."

Looking at McCoy, Scott suppressed a shudder. He had known McCoy had a ruthless side - you didn't survive in the Empire without one - but he hadn't known that the man could match the Vulcan in cold. A noise from the entryway drew Scott's attention.

Mitchell had made it to the outer door, but it didn't look like he would be getting much further. A hand was laid on the door, then it was slowly drug down the surface as Mitchell's legs gave out underneath him. The eyes were no longer a glowing silver, but more like a dull leaden gray. He cursed at both Spock and McCoy - mostly Spock.

"Damn you, Vulcan. What happened to your word?"

Spock clasped his hands behind him.

"I do not recall ever giving you my word, Commander. I merely pointed out things that might have proven to be mutually beneficial. And I was prepared to act when needed, simply not to your advantage."

Mitchell gave a bitter laugh before making one last, and ultimately futile, attempt at the door. His eyes flickered between his natural color and gray until his body spasmed violently, then stilled.

Spock and McCoy remained side by side as they watched the last of life leave Mitchell's body. The silence was finally broken by Spock.

"Mister Scott, will it be possible to perform the needed repairs on the inner door while we are in route?"

"Aye. It will take a bit of finagling, but I can do it."

With another short nod, Spock moved to the ship's intercom.

"Spock to Captain Kirk."

"Kirk here. What is it, Spock?"

"I must inform you that there has been an incident in the Engineering warp core. No damages that Mister Scott cannot attend to, however First Officer Mitchell is dead."

"Is he now? Has that been confirmed?"

McCoy took a step closer.

"McCoy here. He's dead, Jim."

"I see. Well then, Mister Spock? I would like for you to step into the role of First again unless you have an objection."

"No, Captain. No objection. I shall report to my post as soon as the Doctor and I attend to some necessary business."

"Good. Kirk out."

One of McCoy's brows rose.

"Necessary business, Mister Spock?"

"Yes, Doctor. One moment please. Mister Scott, will the body remaining where it is for now cause difficulties in preparing for departure?"

"Not at all, sir."

"Very well. Carry on, Mister Scott."

Turning, Spock headed back out of Engineering with McCoy following. Scott heard them speaking as they left.

"Regarding the necessary business, Doctor, I believe there was another crewmember stunned when Commander Mitchell was?"

"There was. One of my staff. Doctor Elizabeth Dehner. You think she may be affected like Mitchell was?"

"I think it would be illogical to take the chance on that. Do you agree?"

"Sooner we tend to business the better."

As the doors shut behind them and cut off Scott overhearing anything else, the Chief Engineer took a final look at Mitchell before getting back to work. The team of McCoy and Kirk had been deadly enough, but now that it appeared that Spock was joining them to turn the duo into a triumvirate?

After contemplating that thought for a minute, Scott laughed and then began to whistle as he went about his job. This should prove to be an enormously profitable five years.


End file.
